Bugger. You’re not in. You’re almost always in at this time, Chrissy, so why the hell aren’t you in now? Today of all days.
I let myself inside, at the same time wondering if Miranda’s contact will be able to come up with any information on Dr Cousins. I’m glad I asked her outright if she was involved. My heart told me she wasn’t, but I had to be sure.
The house is unusually cold. It’s unlike you not to have cranked up the heating in winter. It’s as if you’ve been too preoccupied with bigger things to think about it. I switch on the hall light, then go upstairs just to make sure you’ve not passed out drunk on your bed. You’re not there, but I do notice a bottle of pills on the bedside table. Jesus, Chrissy, pills as well as booze? But then it occurs to me that Dr Cousins may have prescribed them. My mistress, Amber, who’s been playing us. Again, I wonder if she’s even a qualified shrink? Is she really Amber or Dr Freya Cousins, or is she neither of these women and a complete imposter – who the hell knows? The certificate on her wall could be fake.
I fish out my phone and call you, but you don’t pick up. Perhaps you’re underground, or your phone is on silent. It’s frustrating, and I can’t just sit here waiting. If I can’t speak to you right now, I’ll go and see Janine; see if she can answer my questions, ask her why she kept silent about Amber being your psychiatrist.
I send you a text. It’s not ideal, I wanted to tell you in person, but it can’t wait. If you’ve gone to see Dr Cousins/Amber, you could be in danger.